Wait
by hollywar
Summary: She figured that it was better to love him sometimes, then to not love him at all.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Just a little oneshot, trying to overcome my writer's block – what else is new. Picture this girl however you'd like, I left it open for readers to develop their own character. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Wait**

She met up with Darrell Curtis whenever he called.

No one knew about them, specifically his brothers. He had made it clear to her in the very beginning that nothing could come out of their… situation. He was a good man – there wasn't nothing coming in between his custody of his kid brothers.

Obviously that left her with a little bit of a sour taste in her mouth. It ain't like she was all that bad, was she? Sure, she wore her skirts a little short, and maybe sometimes she put a little bit too much mascara on. But she wasn't a bad person; or at least she liked to think so.

Granted she had her run with the fuzz. She never played with anything too serious, but she'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time once before – pigs pulled her in the patty wagon too. Outside of the Dingo, ironically Dallas Winston and Tim Shepard weren't getting along too great that night. She happened to be with flipping Sylvia that night, of all people.

That's where she ran into him for the first time since high school.

She had just been thrown out of the patty wagon, the fuzz weren't showing her any courtesy either. They didn't care that the three people she had been with had just been pulled into the station. Fucking Sylvia had to go and get her say in the middle of Winston and Shepard and had been picked up too.

She had no one to help, and nowhere to go when she met him.

She caught his eyes on her before they spoke. She had rolled her eyes at him when he finished the last of his beer, chucking the bottle out back away from the cars. She wasn't scared of him like she had been of Shepard when he and Winston picked them up at Sylvia's that evening. He was big, bigger than her brother who was a Brumly gang member.

Yet, she wasn't afraid.

He took a deep breath before he addressed her, but boy what he said pissed her off. "You Timothy Shepherd's girl?"

"I ain't no one's girl, got it?" Her face turned a beet red, she was angry. She hadn't even wanted to go out with Shepard in the first place. He was mean looking with that nasty scar, and his personality didn't do much to change her initial impression. And now she was coined as 'Shepard's girl'? No, no. She wasn't having that.

"Got it. You need a ride?"

He sounded innocent enough, she could tell he had been outside watching the whole scene unfold. She almost felt embarrassed at the cuss words that had come spewing out of her mouth when the fuzz showed up. She cursed Sylvia up and down, cursed Tim down to his lowest, and had had a few selected words for Dallas.

But it didn't matter how cold she was outside in her little dress that she had specially made for her, she wasn't about to jump is some Hood's car. She wasn't like that. "Yeah, but not from you, pal."

He held his hands up, he had a nonchalant look about him. As he came closer to her she could see his features clearly, illuminated by the flickering florescent lights from the Dingo's deteriorating sign. Boy he was pretty. She knew who he was, but he was most definitely underrated.

Her friends would gush to her all the time that his baby brother Sodapop was the real catch. He was pretty she thought, but nothing could compare to the six foot tower of lean muscle standing in front of her. Sodapop looked like a baby in comparison.

"Oh, it's you Curtis." He smiled. Everyone knew around town that the Curtis gang was almost harmless. They wouldn't back down from a threat by any means, but they weren't the type of Greasers to jump someone for fun, they weren't the type of Hoods that would prey on a harmless broad like herself. Well, with some exceptions for Dallas – he was the only real dangerous one of them all. But Darry seemed to have the control to reign him in, and for that many people were thankful.

"Yeah. I guess Dal got picked up, I'm going down to the station if you want to see Shepard."

"Screw Shepard." It had come out of her mouth before her brain even had time to register that she was talking. She could feel her face heating, but was relieved by the small smirk he gave her. "I let Sylvia talk me into coming out tonight."

He nodded, acknowledging that she wasn't with Tim. She knew that they didn't chum together, but Darrell and Shepard had a truce. She watched him pull his keys out of his perfectly fitting jeans. "I'd advise you not stay out here in that if you ain't coming."

She only had to take one look back at the Dingo before she decided that she wasn't staying without him.

…

His old beater truck was warm and for that she was grateful. He drove real careful, she could tell that of all people to get a ride home from, that he was probably the best bet.

They didn't know each other well, but they knew of each other. Who didn't in this town? They were in the same class, same age. She'd heard about his situation, he most likely knew about hers. He was always too good for her and Sylvia in high school. He was going to college and she wasn't, and back then anyone who had the opportunity to further themselves, she wasn't too keen on. She used to resent him – used to wish bad things on him. He fit in with the Socs but was a Greaser. No one understood it.

Now though, as they sat in comfortable silence going further and further into the East Side, she knew that it had been childish of her. This guy didn't seem to have a bad bone inside of him.

"You still on Birmingham?"

His deep voice was soft, somehow. She may never understand how someone so large and gruff looking could make his voice so… so precious.

"Yeah, same place."

He navigated the right way, making all the turns he needed to.

"Still by yourself?" He asked, and she bit her tongue. It was common gossip back when they were in high school that her parents up and left her. They took everything they could and just left, not caring that it was their only daughters eighteenth birthday. She had come home from school to an empty house, and a note on the counter in her mother's pathetic childlike scrawl that she was on her own now.

She thanked whoever was up there every day that her birthday was in June, she only had a few weeks left of high school before she had to give up her dreams of college, dreams of being a nurse. She only had a few weeks left of high school before she had to be serious about getting an income. She knew from the very beginning that she wouldn't have the means to go to college, and all the Socs in the class ate up the scholarships. She was good at school, and got mostly A's. But she was a Greaser. And Greasers don't get picked first. It wasn't her fault that she had to skip class sometimes to work a shift – she needed to eat. But teachers and principals didn't understand that; and if they did, they didn't let on that they understood.

Her parents didn't have jobs, but social assistance had always paid the bills. Nothing extra, but she didn't need or want anything extra from her parents. She quickly went from part time on weekends to a full time waitress down at the Ribbon. It left her bitter that she couldn't possibly pay rent, eat and go to college at the same time. For the moment, she was stuck right where she was.

"Yeah, still by myself."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, nodding his head while stopped at a light. He didn't look at her, he kept his eyes concentrated on the road ahead of him.

"Don't humor me Curtis," she said bitterly. She couldn't help the cold tone. "You've got it worse than me and we both know it."

Darry pursed his lips, glancing at her. "I ain't alone."

"I ain't got two kid brothers to worry about."

He shrugged, and she could tell that he was thinking about his brothers as she watched the emotions unfold across his face. "Keeps me going."

She nodded, and they didn't speak again until she thanked him after hopping out of his truck. The slam of the truck door was a little harder than needed, but she had to calm herself down somehow. Every time she pulled up to the house she felt a little broken.

"Thanks for the lift Darry," she started, realizing that she called him by his nickname. The one everyone used in high school. He noticed too, because he had that stupid little smirk on his face. She could tell he'd been drinking, there was no mistaking that. He was much shyer towards her in high school.

"No problem," he replied. "I'll see you around."

He turned the key in the ignition and the truck came roaring to life. He was about to pull away, when she spoke up.

"Wait!"

She couldn't understand why she called out to him, couldn't comprehend what she even wanted from him as he looked at her patiently from inside the truck. She hadn't even had that many drinks, seeing as Timothy Shepard wasn't exactly a gentleman. She didn't have money to spend on alcohol at a bar, and he hadn't bought her any. Sylvia and Dallas provided her with the few drinks of vodka she had, out of the flask in Sylvia's purse.

He was looking at her expectantly – hell she was the one who called on him.

"Did you want to come in for a bit?" She watched his eyebrows raise, and she quickly fixed the situation. "I meant for a drink Curtis, don't prove the good guy rep wrong now."

He laughed, and for a moment she was memorized.

"Sure, I'll come in for a drink." He killed the engine, and stood with all his six foot lean muscle glory, looked at his watch and then said "I've got to be home before one though. That's the curfew."

She knew he meant that it was his kid brother's curfews, and that he had to be home to reinforce them being home on time; but she couldn't help but feel like they were back in high school. Back before they had real problems.

…

She awoke the next morning on the living room floor, sore but satisfied.

Her hair still smelled of his musky scent, and she was pretty sure that he had a lingering tar smell about him, along with simple smelling soap.

She hadn't had such a good time in a long while.

They had a few drinks, started to understand each other in a way that they hadn't in high school, and then did what most adults do with too much alcohol involved. He was soft with her, careful – the only reason she was sore was because she slept on the living room floor all night. At least it was carpet.

Thinking about the eldest Curtis brother made her chest pang.

Even through the vodka haze, she remembered the conversation they had before anything happened in the first place.

" _Nothing can come out of this, I can't have a relationship right now."_

She'd been so stupid.

" _I ain't looking for one."_

There hadn't been much talking after that. She had been around the track long enough to realize that he wouldn't be there when she woke up, and that she was fine with. What she wasn't fine with was the stupid note that he left her when he went home.

She sat up and groaned, crumbling the note that had been laying by her head. Nothing good would come out of meeting him at the Dingo again tonight, to 'talk', like he asked in the note.

But as she looked at the clock and realized she had twenty minutes to get to work, she had to forget about Darry Curtis until tonight.

…

Work sucked, like usual. She was hungover, her legs ached from her encounter the previous night, and she didn't have time to pack a lunch that morning. Not to mention that a certain Curtis was on her mind, and she just couldn't shake the dreadful feeling.

What could he possibly want to talk about? She couldn't remember if they had used protection or not, but if this was about him messing up, she was going to lose her mind.

Millions of scenarios swirled around in her head, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Darrell Curtis leaning up against his truck, arms crossed and muscles popping. His fitted tshirt and jeans made him drool worthy, and she had to kick herself.

As soon as she pulled into the parking lot of the Dindo, she could feel his eyes on her. He walked over, opening the door in one fluid motion before she had the chance to kill the engine.

"Curtis," she said in a way of saying hello. She didn't see the need of small talk – they were never friends anyway.

He nodded, guiding her into the dingy bar with his hand on the small of her back. It sent tingles throughout her entire body; she needed to cut this off and she needed to cut it off fast.

"I'm not going in there, Curtis. I'm not going anywhere until you explain why we're here."

His eyebrows raised, and he stopped trying to move her. "Well, after last night the least I thought I could do was take you out for dinner."

She snorted, and really did try to feel bad when she noticed the look on his face.

"We both knew that it couldn't go anywhere. You're no knight in shining armor, so why don't we cut the shit. You forget anything last night?" She usually had no problem getting rid of people after they began to become too attached, but the look in his eye was almost killing her.

His face went beet red as he realized what she was asking. "No, I didn't forget anything. Should be nothing to worry about."

She nodded, walking back to her car. "Perfect. I'll be seeing you around Curtis."

And much like she had done last night, he stopped her. "Wait."

He took one step towards her, shutting the car door she had just opened. She looked at him with warning, but he either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.

"Let's get out of here, the Dingo was a bad choice anyways."

She felt her resistance melt away as he guided her to his truck, breathing a sign of defeat as she climbed into the old beater, and the engine came to life as he turned the key.

…

Ironically enough they ended up at the Ribbon, where she had just worked a twelve hour shift. It was the last place in the world she wanted to be, but being with Darry made it bearable. They parked the truck in the movie lot, taking in the big screen.

He explained to her that his brother Ponyboy loved the movies, and that it was a real treat that he didn't have to listen to the plots his youngest brother came up with, or how the movie should have ended. She nodded along, trying to keep up.

All the while, she was confused. Talk about giving her mixed messages. By the middle of the movie she couldn't take it any longer.

"Darry what are we doing?"

He looked as confused as she felt. "We're watching a movie?"

It took everything she had in her to not combust in rage. She took a deep breath in before continuing. "We're not friends, Darry. We never have been, not even in high school. So like I said before you decided to take me on a date without my permission, cut the shit."

The hurt look on his face almost made her want to take it back.

"I'm trying to be nice here, and all you've been doing is complaining."

She saw red.

"I don't WANT you to be NICE. If this is about last night then I think we can just end this now, take me home. This can't go anywhere, I get it. You don't need to –"

He cut her off with a hand behind her head, and his lips attached to hers. He let go of her after a minute, satisfied with her newly found silence.

"I want you, I don't care that I can't have you."

…

And that's how it began.

She got a call when his brother went missing, she got a call when Dallas messed up for the last time. She got a call whenever he felt like he couldn't handle everything at home. He would park his truck in her drive, and they would help each other forget about their troubles for a few hours – until one of them had to get back to reality. And somewhere in the middle of it all, she fell in love with the eldest Curtis, even though she couldn't really have him.

Sometimes it almost killed her, but she figured that it was better to love him sometimes, then to not love him at all.

 **Not my best, a little squeaky. Let me know what you think, thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm not really sure why I started this, or where it's going, but I like it. I've had so many Darry story ideas in my head lately, and it feels good to get them out. I left the girl undescribed and nameless – just because I think it's too far gone to paint her picture now. There may be one more shot at this, as in 'chapter three', but I don't know. I'm going to try and work on it but as of right now I haven't started, and I'm going to keep it as 'completed' just in case. For those of you who don't know, I'm pretty inconsistent when it comes to submitting (I'm my own worst enemy). Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Wait**

 **Chapter Two**

" _You're WHAT?" He bellowed. She couldn't even hide the shock. He looked ready to kill, and she couldn't fathom what the hell his problem was._

…

It was a normal morning off of work for her. She laid in bed for as long as possible, far underneath her heavy duvet with her fuzzy sheets keeping the heat in. It was the dead middle of winter and she couldn't afford to turn the heat up much further than it already was, if she wanted to wash clothes tomorrow. It didn't help that she didn't have enough on her bones to keep the chill away.

Granted it didn't get as cold as it could, and did in other places around the world, but Tulsa still got pretty chilled in the nights.

Her bladder was begging her to get up, but she just couldn't find the energy. Waitressing had proven to be one of the most grueling tasks she ever had to do. And waitressing full time, to her, was like a death sentence. Her feet ached, she didn't like people, and she was almost certain her uniform had a permanent greasy smell. Hell is the only word she could find to describe it.

She had her old, decaying blanket pulled in tightly to her chest. It was an old purple thing, almost threadbare. There was a big stain of dark purple nail polish on it from when she had been a kid, and it reminded her of simpler days. It had been a security to her from the beginning, and she saw no harm in still holding it dearly. She hated being alone in the huge old house.

Though old, the house was in no means dirty. She had taken care of that when her deadbeat parents fled a few years ago. She had never agreed to living in a pigsty – her room was always the cleanest in the house. She didn't have much but she made sure that every window and trim was shining. Dishes were done the same hour they were used, and she had already killed a vacuum from obsessively trying to get rid of the marks her parents left on the poor old house.

Thankfully they couldn't take much furniture when they left. She had all the essentials, everything that someone would need to live comfortably, like a sofa, a bookcase, a bed. She had no cable but she made sure to pay the bill for the phone every month – she felt like that was something she couldn't possibly give up.

Darry called her on the phone.

Groaning, she tucked herself further into the mounds of quilts. Darry Curtis was a real thorn in her side. Their situation was far from normal, and it was an understatement to say she was confused.

He called sometimes to come over, and that she was fine with. She liked those calls. But lately he was calling just to _talk_. One evening his brothers were out and he called her and they talked for three hours. She couldn't even muster up the courage to tell him that it was costing her a fortune – she wanted to hear his voice for as long as she could.

It was becoming real problematic.

They couldn't be together and she got that. Got it real good – she wasn't stupid. She didn't ask him for anything that she knew he wouldn't be willing to give. Hell, she wasn't willing to give him anything either. The whole situation was supposed to be an emotionless one, but she admitted it.

She admitted it, alright? Even in the emotionless depths of her heart, she knew.

She was in love with fucking Curtis.

…

" _You're WHAT?" He bellowed. She couldn't even hide the shock. He looked ready to kill, and she couldn't fathom what the hell his problem was._

" _Look Darry, we ain't together. We're not even thinking about ever being together. What's your problem here?"_

 _He ran his large paws through his wispy hair – there was no grease. They had just gotten out of the shower together and he hadn't had the time nor energy to put it back in. He was looking beyond disheveled, panic clear on his features. "You can't go on that date, you can't."_

 _She was known to have a temper, and this man standing in front of her was treading waters that were not okay with her. No one told her what to do – the two people who had the privilege to do that walked out years ago. She wasn't taking any steps back from what she built herself._

" _I ain't your girl, Darry. You can't tell me what to do."_

 _She was firm, and he was looking at her hysterically. He shut his trap though, because he knew that she wouldn't hear him out at all. He was a smart man._

" _Fine. You do you, and I'll do me from now on."_

 _He grabbed his coat off the hanger by the door, and went for the door. If she had of just shut her damn mouth, if she had of just let him walk out that door than that would be it. He wouldn't call her on the phone anymore, he wouldn't ask if it was a good time to come over. He'd be gone, and that's something that she wasn't ready to deal with yet._

" _Darry, wait!" He spun around, fury in his cold blue eyes, hand still securely on the doorknob. They were normally so warm to her, she could get lost in the ocean of his eyes. It hurt her deep down that he looked at her like she was nothing at that moment. It hurt real bad. "I won't. I won't go tonight, don't leave."_

" _You ain't my girl."_

…

She didn't go on that date with one of those Brumly boys. She couldn't even remember the guy's name – it had been Sylvia's doing, of course. She found it harder and harder to say no to her best friend from high school lately, with the death of Winston looming in every conversation they had.

No one else saw that side to Sylvia; the wracking sobs, the sleepless nights, the obsession of anything alcoholic. It was only her that knew just how much Dallas dying screwed her up. She didn't know how much her best friend loved that delinquent, because they were never going steady.

But then again, neither were her and Darry.

He stormed out of her place that evening and she hadn't heard from him since. It had only been two days but it felt like a lifetime, knowing he was upset with her. Had she known he'd take it so personally, she wouldn't have told him.

Sure, she liked to put up a front, but in the end she would've listened to him. Hell, she did listen to him and he wasn't even around at the moment. She wasn't quite sure if he would ever be around again, to be completely honest with herself.

It stung.

She had almost picked up the phone to call his house on a few occasions, but then realized that if one of his brothers answered she wouldn't know what to do. She couldn't possibly ask for Darry…

She jumped out of bed, ignoring the cold air prickling her skin as she made a mad dash for the phone, skipping steps on the way downstairs. She was lucky she didn't do a face plant at the landing of the twenty odd stairs, she was acting like a maniac.

It was only early, but today was Sunday – she knew he would be home cooking breakfast for his brothers. It was quite brazen of her, but she picked up the phone and hit the number she had saved.

It only rang twice before a noticeably younger Curtis answered. "Curtis residence."

It must have been Ponyboy, she decided. Listening to Darry's stories about his brothers was absolutely comical; she clung on to every word. Growing up an only child made listening to his stories even better, and she was pretty sure she knew more about them than they did themselves; for never meeting them before that is. She didn't think Soda would have answered the telephone with such politeness, but she could be wrong.

"Hello. State attorney here. Could I speak to Mr. Darrell Curtis, please?"

It was a long shot, but she was taking it.

"Yes ma'am, one second please." She felt awful the moment she heard the fear in his voice. It wasn't fair to let the poor kid think there was a problem, but she was being selfish. She needed to hear his voice one last time, even if he hung up after saying hello.

She heard the rustling of the phone being put down and picked back up again.

She was going to Hell.

"Hello?"

At the sound of his voice she froze. Her insides melted and suddenly she didn't feel the cold morning air in the old house. "Hey Darry."

He must have also frozen at the sound of her voice because he didn't respond.

She panicked.

"I know I shouldn't have called you at home, but I told whatever brother answered the phone that I was a State attorney."

Silence.

She continued, because she honestly didn't know what else to do. "It was Ponyboy, right? Very polite."

He cleared his throat as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yeah, it was Ponyboy."

She could almost see the younger boy perk up and look at his older brother. She shouldn't have called, she caught him off guard. She was going to be disappointed by his reaction, and she knew it.

"I'm glad you called." She almost dropped the phone as he continued. "I can be there in an hour."

She could faintly hear Ponyboy question his brother, but she was much too ecstatic to really care what story he would have to come up with. He was coming over, and even if it was to tell her to never call again, it would be something.

"I'll see you then."

They both hung up at the same time, and she danced around the kitchen until her bladder really couldn't hang on any longer.

…

An hour later, like promised, he stormed in without knocking. It startled her, and she let out a little yelp as he threw his jacket and shoes off in a frenzy. He hurriedly made his way to the kitchen where she was standing washing her plate from breakfast. He didn't even give her time to dry her soapy hands off before he grabbed her, pinning her up against the counter.

He kissed her soundly before grabbing her face in between his two rough, calloused hands. "Don't you ever say you're going on a date with someone else again."

Floating, the feeling she had right now absolutely weightless. The only thing she could do was nod her head, so relieved that she could cry.

"I'm sorry I left, I just couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else," he whispered, his calloused hands were still around her heart shaped face. She drank in his appearance and what he was saying to her – even in her wildest dreams she wouldn't have imagined this. He looked solemn, sad almost; and it took everything she had to not devour him right there in her kitchen.

"I didn't go, I'm sorry too."

He let go of her face, standing only a few inches away. He broke the eye contact that they had had since he stormed in without knocking, looking down. He had his two hands on the counter on either side of her, comfortably pinning her. She stood watching his actions, he was being much different than the brash Darry she had come to know. The one who would knock at her door, and then take no time in ravishing her… the Darry standing in front of her looked broken.

"I can't sneak around with you anymore."

The silence was overbearing, smothering.

She was standing in her own kitchen but she needed to get away. She needed to get as far away from him as she could. Who was he to storm in here and make her believe that everything was okay? That nothing between them was going to change?

She threw the balled up dishcloth she was welding across the room, gathering all the courage she had to push him away, his broad chest making her hands look puny. She knew that if he was the type to rough up woman that she would stand absolutely no chance.

But she wasn't afraid, not of him.

"Then get the fuck out of my house." It was harsh, it was cold – it was everything that someone might expect of her. She wasn't exactly the most loveable person on the planet. Her parents left her for heaven's sake, she wasn't worthy of the affection he had already shown her. This was long overdue, and if she was going down, she was taking her dignity with her.

He looked at her like she had three heads.

"Would you just WAIT for a second before you go jumping to conclusions?" He asked of her, and she knew she was being irrational but she couldn't help herself. This needed to end and it needed to end now.

"Leave, Curtis."

He grabbed her wrists, but not hard. If she really wanted to get away from him, he would have let her push him away. But she wasn't going anywhere; they both knew that.

"Look," he started. "I ain't ready to bring you home yet, my brothers are still pretty messed up. Ponyboy won't eat nothing because whatever I cook ain't like Ma's, Soda is heartbroken over some little broad who got knocked up with someone else's kid, and we just lost two guys from the gang. But honey, you're _my_ girl."

He put real ownership on _his_ girl, she noticed. She wasn't ever anyone's girl before, and the feeling felt foreign. She didn't know what to say, and when she said nothing he backpedaled.

"I mean, if I didn't already screw this up."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I'll be your girl, Curtis. So long as I'm the only girl." It was weak, and she chastised herself for looking so small to him. Her insecurities sure did shine through, but she figured it was a pretty intimate moment and he wouldn't call her out on it.

He smiled, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. "You were always the only girl."

 **Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought in a review. Like I said, there may be a chapter three, so if you're interested make sure to follow!**


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